


A Visit From... Sirius (Visitor Series #6)

by Silbane



Series: The Visitor [6]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Prostitution, Visitor Series, sirius black - Freeform, visitor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-03
Updated: 2015-09-03
Packaged: 2018-04-18 20:59:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4720253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silbane/pseuds/Silbane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You'd be amazed how fulfilling it can be, being a Knockturn Alley prostitute."</p><p>The adventures and encounters had by a Muggle-Born prostitute. In this one, she gets a visit from a handsome escaped convict.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Visit From... Sirius (Visitor Series #6)

**Author's Note:**

> It's finally here! I am so, so, so very sorry for the lateness, one of my coworkers is in a play so I've been covering her closing shifts instead of opening, which leaves me with fewer hours in the day to devote to writing. But! I finally finished it, so here you are.
> 
> P.S. I decided to keep the tattoos from the movie canon, rather than disregard them as they aren't mentioned in books at all. I thought it fit him well, and JK Rowling has never mentioned during interviews that she *disliked* them. :)

I can frankly boast about the fact that I am one of the most tactful and trustworthy prostitutes you'll ever run across in Knockturn Alley, or anywhere else probably, and my discretion is legendary. Sometimes, however, the secrets some of my clients expect me to keep are borderline absurd, and if it weren't for my ridiculous sense of duty when it comes to my... career... I'd be a very rich woman. One such instance was the night I met with none other than the then-infamous Sirius Black in the early stages of the Second Wizarding War...

 

Today has been interesting so far, to say the least. This morning I received a request for my services that was delivered not by owl, but by dog. It was actually a rather large, mangy looking black dog and at first I was extremely hesitant to accept the letter because it just screamed “trap,” but the wards on my home wouldn't allow it to be found without good intentions. I didn't even know you could train dogs to be messengers, but I digress. I gave the dog a good ear scratch and a treat and sent it on its way.

In the letter, I was instructed to dress in my finest. However, I was _also_ told to expect standard entrance, which would normally be fine, but my wards also specify that no one is allowed to Apparate directly out of my home. Anyone who has dealt with me before or has heard of how I operate should have safely assumed this. Lastly, the sender of the letter refused to identify himself, and if this mystery man is trying to be secretive about our adventure, he's certainly not being very smart about it.

Regardless, it's nearing midnight and here I sit at my kitchen table wearing a floor-length gown with a tastefully low-cut back and heels, reading a book on Potions theory when I finally hear someone at the door. I stand, open the door, wait the typical five seconds for my disillusioned guest to enter, close it, and turn around. He's tall and thin, has curly black hair, and a tattoo poking out above the collar of his robes. In fact, if I was being completely honest, he reminds me a bit of a pirate, a rather handsome one, and he's holding out a colorful bouquet of garden flowers. I have to pause and think for a second before our introduction, because the man in front of me seems just so oddly familiar, and the moment it clicks, I'm not really sure what to do with myself.

As I reach for the flowers, I'm literally speechless between two things that my brain is trying to process: This is Sirius Black, the only man to ever escape Azkaban, and he brought me flowers. Just a couple of years ago, his face had been plastered on every bulletin board and wall in Wizarding Britain detailing his crimes and warning that he was apparently trying to find his godson, none other than Harry Potter, to kill him. I know one thing for certain. Harry Potter isn't dead, and a murderer doesn't typically hide out for two years and decide to make a quick stop at a whorehouse if they're determined to kill someone. I keep this bit of information in the back of my mind while I accept his gift.

“It's a pleasure to meet you, Sirius.” Part of me expects him to brandish his wand because I've deduced who he is, and the other part thinks I'm being stupid, because of course I'd know who he is, and my reputation is likely the reason he's _trusting_ me to service him tonight. The latter assumption was correct.

“The pleasure is all mine, dear.” He takes my hand to kiss the back of it. His robes are luxe, though a bit dated, now that I've recovered and can actually examine him.

“Thank you for the flowers, they're beautiful.” I bow my head to smell them; they really are quite nice and while roses may be considered the ultimate in romantic flowers, these feel more thoughtful, which I love.

A sly smile crosses his lips, and he steps back with a wide sweeping gesture to look me over a bit. “As are you.” I smirk, _Suave_. “I also brought this.” Seemingly out of nowhere he produces a bottle of wine from behind his back and presents it for me.

My smirk breaks into a wide smile, this appointment is going to be delightful. “So we're staying in, then?”

He laughs wholeheartedly. He has such a sharp and lively laugh that feels like it brings more warmth into the room. “Well I can't really go gallivanting around town now, can I?”

I walk past him, plucking the bottle out of his hand and making my way to the kitchen. “Oh, Sirius, What's life without a little risk?”

He follows me with a pleased expression and leans on the counter as I grab two glasses for the wine. “So Missy, do you go to school?”

I chuckle, raising an eyebrow at him. “Not all sex workers are trying to get through school, some of us actually like what we do.” He raises his hands defensively, then folds his arms casually as I continue. “I've thought about being a Potions Mistress, though. Maybe once I'm old and nobody has use for me in the bedroom I'll give it a shot.” I grin and set the glasses on the table.

He laughs at this, and when I'm about to remove the cork, he steals the bottle and corkscrew from my hand and does it himself. I put my hands on my hips. “Missy, you're going to look just as lovely when you're older, and besides, there are all sorts of fetishes for that sort of thing.” He winks at me.

I can't stop myself from bursting into laughter of my own. He pours two drinks and he pulls my chair out for me. We sit chatting for a bit about small things and sneaking in plenty of innuendos from both of us.

“Let me see your tattoos.”

His eyebrows go up, and that same devilish smirk he's so good at reappears. “You'll see all of them soon enough, dear.” I giggle as he undoes the first few buttons of his shirt.

When his shirt is halfway open, my eyes go wide; he's almost covered in them. The one in the center of his chest I recognize as the symbol for Amalgamation, but there's writing all over, most notably on his shoulder in a language I can't seem to read. “So what does this script mean?” I point to one.

“That one? I got it just before I was sent to Azkaban.” He draws close to my ear and whispers something I dare not repeat even now.

I devolve into laughter and swat his chest. “Sirius Black, you lecherous man! That _can't_ be what it means!”

He sits back, resting his arm on the back of my chair, and takes a sip of his wine. “I wouldn't lie to you, love.” He winks, a wicked grin on his face.

I roll my eyes. I can't imagine what I'm going to be dealing with when he finally beds me, and I find myself very much looking forward to it. My stomach growls a bit and I stand up. “Would you like a treat of some sort? I'm a bit hungry.”

He snorts at this for some reason I can't figure out and nods. “That would be lovely.”

I shoot him a confused look and reach up to grab a box of biscuits down from the cupboard. I absently hear his chair move and hands are suddenly placed at the spot just above my hips and begin to tickle me. I shriek with laughter and turn around, playfully batting him off of me.

Our eyes catch and he chuckles darkly, leaning me into the counter behind me and pressing his lips to mine. They're chapped and a bit bitter from the alcohol; it suits him. Up against me, he smells like cedar and dirt, not necessarily in a bad way. This man is admittedly incredibly charming; he's the perfect mixture of self-deprecation and bravado, and that smile of his just melts me.

He pulls back, shaking his head at me in mock disappointment. “Control yourself, woman.” He walks to the table and sits back down to take another drink, pretending to ignore my frustration when I let out an incredulous huff.

I join him at the table with the box, and we talk for a long while more. The muscles in my cheeks are starting to ache from laughter.

“I hope you realize that if we don't stop drinking soon I'll be entirely too tired to fuck.” I state matter-of-factly with a grin.

“Oh, we can't have that now, can we?” He instantly stands and offers me his hand like a gentleman. I take it, and the moment I'm on my feet he hoists me up over his shoulder and carries me to the bedroom while I squeal and giggle like a fool. He sets me down on the ground, a broad smile on his face, and wags his eyebrow at me as I curse him out. He shuts me up almost immediately when he pushes me against the wall and resumes our activities from the counter. Moments like this are fascinating to me: one second it's fun and laughter and the next it's tensely passionate and sexual. You could blink and miss the transition.

I'm that perfect level of lightheadedness that sort of loosens your brain so everything feels enhanced. His tongue is eager but gentle, exploring my mouth with fervor while his hands trail along my back and down to cup my arse. The long slit in my dress allows me to lift one leg up around his thigh to pull him closer to me, and he grinds his hips against mine. The effect is heady and I soon find myself moaning quietly into his mouth. I can feel myself growing wet as he kneads and squeezes my arse cheeks, his tongue making its way down to my chin and throat. He suckles on my pulse, and my nipples begin to tingle under my dress.

With no grace whatsoever, he pulls out his wand and _Divestos_ me, my gown falling into a puddle of fabric on the floor. He pulls back and his grey eyes glitter while he takes in the image of my body before him, I feel myself flush a bit under his hungry stare. He holds out his hand for me once more. I take it, and he spins me into his arms, dipping me as if we've been dancing. I giggle as I look up at him, his warm smile holding something more than usual, _admiration._ He certainly knows how to make a girl feel special. I bring my hand up to his neck and press our lips together once more, but before we get too into it, he raises and releases me, and I pull him to the bed.

I lay on my back, leaning on my elbows, and draw one knee up to display myself for him. He growls his appreciation, removing his robes. He's lean underneath them, surprisingly thin, but strong. I bite my lips as he climbs on top of me, my heart begins to race as our eyes meet. I want to be coy about this, but my head is clouded with lust and I can't stop myself from bringing my arms around his neck and pulling his lips down crashing into mine. He lowers his body onto me as we kiss, I hook my leg around his thigh. I can feel his hardness pressed against my stomach, and a muffled whimper escapes me when his hip snaps into mine in a mock thrust.

His mouth trails downwards, caressing and laving my chest, stomach and eventually my pelvic bone while his stubble tickles my skin. I look down to him, the desire evident on his face with a hint of smugness I only thought capable of Lucius Malfoy as he reaches my mound. His warm, wet tongue begins to flick out to tease my inner thighs. For an eternity, it feels, he dances around my lips, occasionally sliding over them _just so_ delicately. I buck my hips against his face, delirious from his ministrations.

“Is something wrong, dear?” He stops entirely and stares up at me with a triumphant look, knowing full well he's completely avoiding the part I most desperately want him to touch.

I scoff in annoyance. “You utter bastard!” He places the tip of his forefinger on his nose, a snarky smirk on his face.

He crawls up to meet my lips again, pecking them chastely, and rolling onto his back. His erection bobs at me, I note, as his eyebrow raises. “Would you mind taking care of that?”

My mouth drops open at the infuriating, unbelievable, charming arrogance of this man. Scathingly playful words are ready to be thrown at him, but that damned smirk of his prevents me from cursing him up and down. I resolutely shake my head in disapproval and bring his cock to my lips. He places his hands behind his head in a leisurely pose, _Bastard_ , sighing in contentment.

I'd like to come clean at this point and you probably won't be surprised at this information, but I rather love giving head. There's something so arousing about having a cock in my mouth... that little choking sensation that comes about when the tip reaches the back of my throat, the way they twitch when I perform certain actions, the knowledge that it's _me,_ with _my_ skills, that's pushing them to their orgasmic heaven. I lave the underside of his cock with my tongue in long, flat strokes and he gasps in approval above me, a practice I learned early on that almost no man is immune to. Several teasing strokes later, I wrap my lips around the tip and suck gently. The head of his cock is smooth against my tongue as I twirl it around. My hand is at the base, tugging upward in slow motions. His breathing is quiet and shuddering until I dip down to take him entirely in my mouth. _He makes the most delightful hissing noises_. I wonder to myself when the last time was that he'd received head. Which leads me to think that maybe under all of that arrogance he was worried he's become out of practice since being locked up in prison, and didn't want to embarrass himself earlier. If that's true, he played it off well at least.

I quicken my pace, working up and down his smooth shaft, the curly bush of hair at the base tickling my nose a bit each time I come down. Before long he's coming, shooting hot and deep into my throat. I still my head as he releases in me, swallowing each round and coaxing him along with flicks of my tongue.

I lick the edges of my lips. He's come, but he hasn't run flaccid again, which is a feat in itself. Most men need some recovery time, but apparently that isn't true for Sirius Black, and I think the pompous git knows it. “There.” I scowl at him in jest as he looks down at me, smirk once again present, and pull myself up beside him. “You're like a spoiled prince.” I do so love when my clients can take a bit of heckling.

“Mm, then you can be my concubine.” He rolls over on top of me and covers my mouth with his, unabashed that I still taste of him. I wrap my legs around his waist and massage one of his nipples with my fingers then pinch it gently, just enough to sting. He shudders out a breath. “Naughty girl.”

He pulls back and places himself at my entrance, looking up to me for approval. I bite my bottom lip and nod; he thrusts in, my mouth drops open and eyes go wide. His cock fills me wonderfully and it slides in with no effort, my wetness betraying any attempts at hiding my eagerness for him. I sob pitifully up at him; he stares at me like he's mapping my face, storing to memory every line in my face and the look in my eyes as I feel him finally move within me. Long, deliberate thrusts measured carefully to evoke the best reaction from me as tendrils of his hair fall in front of his face; I know exactly what he's doing, and I savor the sensations of his skin on mine, expressing my appreciation in moans.

Finally, it seems he's satisfied and he drives into me, covering my lips with his again and our tongues tangle and twist in each others mouths. His velvety cock pistons in and out, animalistic groans coming from his throat with each thrust. Sweat forms between us and he breaks our kiss, our breaths now too ragged to be contained. He reaches one hand down and pushes my thigh up, pushing harder into my quim. He buries his face in my neck as his hips start to move erratically and I dig my fingernails into his back. I turn my head, my lips against his ear, and whisper, “Fuck me, Sirius.”

His breath hitches, tipping over the edge. A loud groan rips from him and he holds his cock still, buried deep in me. He shudders against me as he comes a second time; I drag my nails down and he exhales a ragged laugh. He falls to the bed beside me, exhausted and panting. I run my fingers across his chest in little swirling patterns and press my lips into his shoulder as he comes down from the high.

When he's recovered, he shifts his gaze to me. “You're pretty good at what you do.”

I raise my eyebrow. “ _Pretty good?_ You're impossible, Sirius.” I shake my head and get up from the bed smiling.

He stretches and scoots off the bed as well. “Oh, come, dear. You didn't expect me to turn into a lovesick puppy afterward, did you?”

I pull on a robe and lean against the wall beside the door. “I'd be disappointed if you did.”

He chuckles and approaches me, now clothed, and ensnares my hand in his, kissing my knuckles. “I aim to please.” I roll my eyes with a grin. He squeezes my hand gently. “Thank you.”

The sincerity of his voice shouldn't surprise me, but it sort of does in a weird way. “You're welcome, love.” He smiles and releases my hand. I open the door and he exits, then turns to face me. After a moment, he winks and Disapparates. _Be safe_ , I think as I close the door.

_Thanks for the visit, Sirius._

**Author's Note:**

> As always, let me know if this wasn't up to par. I had a lot of trouble with it, to be honest, because I didn't feel like I could properly express his character in my writing, so I'm a little self-conscious about it. If you can pinpoint parts where it feels "weird" and can offer some advice, I'd love it! I'm always looking to learn more and improve my skills!
> 
> If you don't feel like leaving a comment, kudos make my heart sing! :D


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